


Temptation

by I_Write_Tragedies_Not_Sins



Series: The Way of Thedas cut scenes [8]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Blood Magic (Dragon Age), Implied/Referenced Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:01:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25048831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Write_Tragedies_Not_Sins/pseuds/I_Write_Tragedies_Not_Sins
Summary: This scene is during The Broken circle quest line, set during my big fic To Temper Sorrows. It didn't fit there and had to be cut during edits but I really liked it so I decided to keep it as a one-shot.
Relationships: Former Cullen x Amell
Series: The Way of Thedas cut scenes [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/654866
Kudos: 1





	Temptation

Whispers, so many whispers, running through his mind. Cullen's body has become numb to the burning feel of demons brushing against him. He can hear his blood echoing in his ears, pounding so loud that not even the voice of the demon can be heard over it.

All he sees is red. His body trembles at the thought of killing ever mage that lives in the tower. _How could he have ever sympathized with these vicious monsters?_ Anger makes the veins in his forehead pop in vast relief against his pale, taunt skin. Gashes like open, angry mouths cover his arms and legs, dried blood stuck to the edges of each wound. They had stolen his blood when they could not take his mind. _Wretched, Maker-accursed blood mages._

He hates them all. For every bit of pain, for every dead friend, he hates them. He lets out a roar, smashing his fists into the ground, wishing like the void that he is free of this cage so he can kill them all.

The demon forms before his eyes again and he growls at it, a low guttural sound he doesn't recognize. It almost amuses him, the irony of the situation. The thing they keep tormenting him with, that woman… He hates her, too, now. They have beaten away at every good feeling he has ever felt toward any mage and all that is left is a bitter hate and dark rage.

"Begone, demon! I want not what you offer," he says, eyes narrowed.

The demon smiles, the malice in the expression not matching the face it's formed on. "Then you will break from pain," it whispers, soft and sweet like a promise.

Cullen tenses, a grim expression on his face as he wipes a bit of blood from his lip, rising to his feet. "Do your worst, monster."

A bolt of lightning shoot its way through his body as he cries out, a sharp piercing sound against the silence. The ground hits his knees before he knows he's falling. A wordless cry keeps echoing in his ears, a desperate high-pitched screech, and he realizes too late he's the one making that Maker awful sound. He collapses, the stone floor cold against his face, body convulsing in pain.

The rest of the templars are dead. Cullen looks around, the few remaining templars who had held out against the blood mages nothing more than corpses left to rot.

He is the last of them. Pain continues to vibrate through his body. Different visions of Mellie torment him, day after day until days turn into weeks and maybe longer yet. Sometimes she's in simple mage robes, a book in hand and wide, frightened eyes. She begs and pleads with him to save her, tears streaming down her beautiful, plump face. Other times she wears a commoner's dress, hair pulled up and the sweetest of smiles. She promises him that this is nothing more than a nightmare, that there is no magic, and to come home to their farm.

And sometimes, though it shames him to admit it, she's nude, her pale skin glistening in the candlelight. He feels his groin react to the sight and curses his body for its reactions. He knows it isn't her but his body pulses in response in spite of that knowledge. How he once longed to take her, make her his despite knowing they can never be.

"Ser Cullen," the demon's voice whispers, its breath tickling his ear.

_No. He won't respond. He **will** ignore it. If he…_

Pain shoots its way through his skull, stealing his breath and his vision. "No! I won't, I won't, I won't!" he cries out, refusing to answer, refusing to give in. He will be strong. He _must_ be strong.

"Please, save me, Ser Cullen," it begs.

He is beginning to hate both the sound of that voice and the way the demon's eyes mirror the real thing so well. Every time he looks at the demon shaped as Melina, he can feel the hate and bile rise up.


End file.
